


Chasing Ghosts.

by Kairosiia



Category: Persona 5, Persona 5 Royal
Genre: F/M, Facing the Inevitable, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Future: Third Semester Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:47:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24677158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kairosiia/pseuds/Kairosiia
Summary: You're a bartender at the Jazz Jin bar in Kichijoji. Your goal while in the city is to stay afloat, obtain your degree, and remain unnoticed.This all changes when you hear someone enter the bar one Tuesday evening.
Relationships: Akechi Goro & Reader, Akechi Goro/Reader
Comments: 3
Kudos: 53





	Chasing Ghosts.

**Author's Note:**

> Preface Note: The reader insert character's last name is Kimira. I have left the first name as '[F/N]'. She is often nicknamed as "Kimi" or "Mira". It's a bit easier to write with some sort of name for me. She is 19 years old.
> 
> The song that inspired this fic is "Chasing Ghosts" by The Crow and the Canary. The artist only has two songs on their Spotify with 28 listeners per month, but randomly came up on my discover weekly playlist and I fell in love.

He arrived one Tuesday evening.

This, of course, wasn’t something out of the ordinary to see. Business at the Jazz Jin on weekdays was relatively slow, but there were usually around a handful of customers that kept the dim, cozy atmosphere of the club alive with idle banter and stir sticks clinking against cups. 

These days were actually your favorite, because your boss, Muhen, would often allow you to take the reins while he worked on paperwork in the back room. You loved being in charge of making the drinks for customers because it brought it more tips. Being just shy of twenty, you had yet to be of legal age to bartend, but savored the little bits of freedom Muhen gave you to help out financially. 

You were wiping down a table when the wind chime near the entrance twirled at the newly-entered breeze. You were focused on a particularly finicky water ring on the table--some people just don’t understand how to use their coasters, you sigh internally--when you called out a greeting. Somewhat satisfied, you finally glance up to check out the newcomer. You expected to see an average customer in their mid-thirties, so when a young man met your gaze with a polite smile, you couldn’t help but raise your eyebrows. 

“It’s been a while since we’ve had a younger customer stop by,” you mused aloud, before pursing your lips, realizing how rude it must have sounded. The man didn’t appear offended, but rather surprised.

“I read about this place online. You serve minors until late evening, correct?” You nod in affirmation. He hums in thought. “Well, I’m quite surprised to hear that younger people don’t frequent this club. It’s the only place in town that offers live music, so I’ve read.” 

You shrug and readjust your apron, tucking the towel in its back pocket. “They’re probably just unaware that we’re here. Or,” You grin, placing a hand dramatically on your hip. “They’re just scared to visit. Those iron stairs outside do look a bit rickety.”

He chuckles at that, before sweeping his eyes across the club. The walls were made of brick, with various tapestries and posters depicting rare types of whiskey nailed across them. Bookshelves were at the far right corner of the room, neatly organized with various jazz albums and musician biographies. Round, thrifted walnut tables were spaced across the room, with older, mismatched chairs that added a worn yet comfortable nature to the place. Globe lights were strung across the ceiling, and a large bar was centered near the back wall, with homemade candles lit near the register. 

You gesture towards a small stage, with retro speakers stacked atop one another and a baby grand piano that was currently closed down for the night. “This is where our musicians perform. We have performances around four times a month. If I’m correct, the next one is actually--” You turn your head and squint at a calendar near the register. “--this Friday, if you’re interested.” Your eyes widen.“Oh, feel free to choose where you’d like to sit, by the way.” He nods at this and decides on one of the round tables near the stage. You hand him a menu and take the time to make your rounds, refilling glasses and providing tabs to the other customers. 

One of your regulars, a woman in her late twenties, was leaning against the counter and eyeing you incredulously. You were working on the drink that the young man had ordered, and you frowned slightly at the woman. “Is something wrong, Miss Hara-Sama?” 

The woman waved her hand dismissively. “I think I’ve frequented here enough for you to call me Aimi. Anyway--” Aimi subtly quirked her head towards where the young man was seated, appearing to be typing something on his phone. “--You know who that is, right?” 

“Uh… no?” 

“...Really? Have you not watched the news at all this year?”

You plink a couple of ice cubes into the fruity seltzer drink, your eyebrows furrowed. “I don’t own a tv. Either way, I don’t care what his social status is. It’s not my business.” 

Drink complete, you place it on a tray and head back to where the young man was. While you preferred to look at every customer equally, you couldn’t shake off Aimi’s remark. For her to bring him up, he must be some television celebrity, or something. Why was he visiting this hole-in-the-wall bar…?

Willing your face to remain neutral, you served the young man rather quickly, hoping to swiftly return to the safety of the bar. But before you could make your escape, he cleared his throat.

“I don’t believe I caught your name, miss,” He inquired, a polite smile on his face once more. “I appreciate you showing me around this place, but would prefer to thank you by name.”

This guy sure is polite… almost strangely so. Nonetheless, you smile back. “I’m Kimira [f/n]. And yours?”  
His eyes widened a bit, and he laughed lightly. “I haven’t talked to someone that didn’t know my name prior in a long while. It’s Akechi Goro.”

You haven’t heard that name before, but something tells you that you probably should have. I guess I really do live under a rock. 

You put a hand on your hip again, chewing lightly on your lower lip. Curiosity was getting the best of you. You’re not that great with manners, and weren’t in the mood to beat around the bush. “So… are you some kind of celebrity around here?” You spare a glance back at Aimi, and she quickly turns around and becomes interested in her drink. Nobody else in the bar seemed to be paying any mind to the guy. They were older men, though. “I’m pretty behind on the times, so I’d like to know if I need to brace myself for a swarm of fans to burst through the door.”

Akechi took a thoughtful sip of his drink. “I don’t believe you have anything to worry about. If anyone saw me enter, this place would be a bit more crowded right now.” So he is famous.

That was enough of an answer for you. You raise your palm up at him. “Well, rest assured, this is a safe place for you to visit, Akechi-kun. If anyone comes around to bother, I can beat ‘em up for you.” 

You jokingly flex your right arm and he chuckles. 

“I’ll definitely keep that in mind.”

-

Friday arrived rather quickly, especially with the increasingly heavy workload that online school was piling up. Finals were near, and then you’d have a month of break before second semester began. Until then, you had to juggle academics and work, as well as your sibling.

As you put away your homework papers and laptop, your younger brother perked up. “Could ya get some of those pork buns while you’re out?” He kicked his legs back and forth, his feet still inches away from the floor while seated at the kitchen table. He was working on a crossword puzzle from the newspaper; it was quite a bit above his current reading level, but he was adamant about figuring each and every word out (even if he had to ask you for hints). 

You tapped a finger on your chin, in playful thought. “Mm, those sell out pretty fast on weekends, but I know there’s some leftover on Sundays.” You side-stepped out of your seat at the kitchen table, hugging your homework to your chest to make up for how cramped the room was. Once free, you leaned over and ruffled Toshiro’s hair. “But I’ll be sure to find you a snack!” You slip on some flats and give a two-fingered wave at the birdcage that sat atop the bookshelf. “See ya soon, Sunny!” Your pet canary chirped happily, preening at its bright yellow feathers.

Muhen gave you the weekend off so you could focus entirely on preparing for your finals, so you wanted to take advantage of this rare opportunity and get some grocery shopping done before the shops closed for the evening. You also made sure to wait a week after the first of the month, since that’s when shopping is always the busiest in Kichijoji. 

Luckily, you were able to check just about everything off of your grocery list, with a little bit of yen to spare. You decided on some American sweets from the international store for Toshi to try out. 

You wiped your forehead with the back of your hand, groaning at the impending summer heat. It felt as though it were only yesterday that the cherry blossoms were in full bloom, and the air had a cool breeze. The benefit of your workplace was that it was always consistently a few degrees cooler than the outdoors, and this thought made you pause. That’s right… there was a performance there tonight. 

Even though the heaviness of your canvas grocery bags were pulling on your back muscles and your palms were burning from the friction, you decided to take a u-turn and walk past Jazz Jin to double check who was performing. 

The front of the club was pretty crowded, but people gave you a bit more space because of your giant grocery bags. Peering past a few bystanders, you were able to take a look at what was advertised.

The poster displayed in front of the club was for a new duo you hadn’t heard of; a man and woman all the way from America, to your disbelief. 

“‘The Crow and the Canary,’” you murmur. You don’t recall any American musicians visiting this place in the past year that you’ve worked here. Perhaps they were just performing at venues while on vacation? 

Your mind was set. There was no way you were going to miss this performance. 

“Excuse me! Gotta get through! I have very important supplies!” You call out, smiling sheepishly as you accidentally bump into some people in front of the steps. You teeter down the stairs, a bit like a crab, until you finally reach the entrance of your workplace. 

The familiar scent of palo santos hits your nose, and you feel your shoulders relax a bit. It wasn’t jam-packed in the club, luckily; Muhen was great at maintaining room capacity limits. You made it to the back of the bar, and nodded cheerfully at Muhen, who looked at you with surprise.

“Well, well, looks like you just can’t get enough of this place, eh?” he grins, tipping his hat slightly at you in greeting. He was shaking up a customer’s drink at the bar.

“Oh, you know it,” you joke back. You duck into the back room to get to the staff fridge, the beaded curtain cover swinging from your movement. “The performers looked pretty neat. I had to stop by.” 

“They start in five, so hurry on out!”

Once your bags were not-so gracefully shoved into the staff fridge, you sauntered back out, rubbing at your reddened hands. “Spare a lady some ice, Muhen?” 

“I would if we still had some.”

You groan in annoyance. This happened last summer, too. “We should invest in an ice machine already. I’ll even help pay for one.”

“You could take some of mine, if you’d like.”

You jolt your head up and take a look at the young man seated at the bar. You recognized that voice. It was definitely the guy you talked with on Tuesday, but this time he was sporting glasses and a baseball cap with some brand’s logo on it. Definitely a 180 from his previous I-just-left-a-chess-tournament attire. 

“Oh! Ak-” He pursed his lips and gave you a pointed look. “Ahhhumm. Hi. Hello. Welcome back to Jazz Jin.” 

“This one of your friends, Mira?” Muhen gestured towards the barstools. “You’re not on the clock, so go ahead and enjoy yourself.” Your boss seemed awfully amused at your rarely-sighted awkwardness, so you mustered back as much nonchalance as you could while you went over and plunked yourself next to Akechi. 

“So you’re needing ice?” He asked, not even bothering to hide his simper. 

You narrow your eyes. “Not anymore.” You cross your arms to hide your sore hands. “You just come back from a trip to America or something? What’s with the getup?”

His smile got a bit wider. “I did, actually. I just got back a few hours ago.”

Your jaw dropped slightly. He continued on. “It was for business. The news station I visited had these in my PR box. I don’t usually take them, but this time around I thought they’d be proven useful to visit this performance.” 

You lean back on the bar table with an elbow with a disbelieving look. “PR boxes, huh. What’s usually in those?”

He took a quick sip of his drink--a strawberry mojito, huh. He sure likes sugary beverages--while he pondered. “They’re items that they want to have promoted, to be seen in use by those in the eye of the public. I tend to leave them unopened.” 

He was stating this very matter-of-factly, with no hint of boasting or pride to be found. Yet, you still felt a bit irked. It was always those that already have the money to buy nice things, that get those nice things for free all the time. 

Before you could make a retort, you noticed the room become quieter as the performers walked on stage, acoustic guitars in hand. Father played one of those, you reminisce, smiling to yourself. The bar is a bit of a distance from the stage, but you can still see the loving gaze the performers share, as they introduce themselves to the audience in English. You see Muhen at the side being their impromptu translator. That’s a valuable skill; you’ll have to make sure that Toshi learns English as soon as possible, so it won’t be as difficult to learn like it is at your age. 

The male performer strums his guitar, taking a moment to fine-tune the strings before starting a melody that the woman follows after. 

“Merciless winter, shield me from cold  
Weary in springtime, left me alone  
Dying ain't easy, when you're alone  
Ohhh, they know where to go…”

You feel completely enraptured. It feels as though the tune thrums in your bones, their voices gliding across the room like the spring wind. 

“...I don't need you holding me down, I don't need you now  
Bury my heart in the ground, heart in the ground  
The sound of your fear is too loud, I won't hear the sound  
I don't need you holding me down, I don't need you now”

The lyrics of the song were not the most positive, but you felt an ever-present love behind them. The love of understanding when to accept the inevitable, when to move on… Something you had yet to accept about your parents.

You bit down hard on your lower lip. Normally you didn’t think about the past during the day, when you had work to do, a degree to obtain, and a brother to raise. It often came at night, with the looming shadows that grew in your bedroom as the moon traveled across the sky. Luckily you haven’t had a night like that in a while because you’d come home so exhausted, but with summer coming up with more free time… 

You don’t realize that the song came to an end until Akechi begins to applaud the artists, alongside the rest of the audience. You enthusiastically join in, and return to enjoying the remaining hour of the show.

-

Once the performance had finished, you dared a glance at the wall clock and winced. It was nearly 10pm, and you still had to walk back with the heavy grocery bags. Hopefully you could put all of the food away without waking up Toshi.

As if he read your mind, Akechi turns to you, having decided to remove his hat and glasses as the crowd thinned out. “I noticed you brought in quite a large amount of bags earlier. Had you been out grocery shopping?” You nod. “I’d be happy to assist you in carrying those home, if you’d like.”

You hoped that your relief wasn’t too evident on your face. “I’d appreciate it. My apartment isn’t too far from here.” You get up from the bar stool and stretch out your back with a wince. Looks like you’d already pulled a muscle or two from earlier. Waving a quick goodbye to Muhen--who was preoccupied with trying to mandate the crowd around the two artists--you slipped through the beaded curtain to retrieve your chilled bags. Once you returned, you handed off one of them to Akechi and nodded towards the exit. 

The air was still pretty muggy, but it was bearable. There were also no mosquitos to worry about, to your relief. You were a bug magnet in the summertime, and basically had to drown your body with insect spray each morning to ensure that you wouldn’t disappear by mid-afternoon.

“I’ve realized that I never asked,” Akechi suddenly began, and you looked up at him as you walked down the lit sidewalk. “But are you a college student? You look relatively young to be working at a bar.”

You perked up at that. “I am! I’m just finishing up my first year.” You lean in slightly with a grin. “My twentieth is still a few months out, so don’t rat me out, yeah? I’ll be a certified bartender in no time.” He raises a hand in humored acceptance.

“Your secret is safe with me.”

You take a second to switch your hold on your bag to your left hand. When you do, you realize that Akechi’s been carrying your second bag with his left hand. “Huh. Are you left handed, Akechi-kun?” 

You didn’t mean to change the subject so quickly, but he takes it in stride. “Indeed I am. You have a good eye, Kimira-san.” 

You tilt your head slightly. “‘San?’ I didn’t think you were younger than me.” Must be the manners. “How old are you, anyway?”

Akechi hums. “I just turned eighteen. I’m preparing to graduate from Kosei High School next week.” 

“Ah, I see.” You reflect on what he said and raise an eyebrow. “Wait, just? When was your birthday?”

Akechi isn’t fazed. “June second.”

Hold up. Today was June fifth… so that means--

You abruptly stop walking and Akechi pauses to glance at you quizzically.

“...So you visited Jazz Jin on your birthday?” 

Akechi blinks. “I suppose so. How come?”

You stomp your foot slightly. You regret wearing flats. They’re not that dramatic. “Why didn’t you say anything? We could’ve made your drink on the house, or something.” 

His mouth quirks up. “Why would I want that when I have the privilege to pay for it myself?”

Well, he got you there. You were complaining about that earlier, too. “Well, we could’ve put a paper umbrella in your drink, maybe.” You resume walking. You’re not sure where this indignance came from. You’ve only just met this guy. You ignore the laugh that comes from behind you. 

When you reach your apartment complex, you try to persuade Akechi to leave the grocery bag at the bottom of the stairs, because of how much of a hike it is to get to yours. He promptly ignored your plea and followed you suit up the tall staircase. 

“Th-thanks again,” you let out, trying to regain your breath as you stand in front of your door. He simply nods, wearing that signature polite smile of his. Curse his endurance.

“I’ll be sure to stop by the Jazz Jin again in the future. The beverages there are simply unmatched.” He nods in farewell and begins to descend down the stairs, but then you pipe up.

“Hey! Uh, I still feel bad about making you lug my heavy bag all the way here, so I’d be happy to have you over sometime for food.” You set your bag down on the welcome mat and fumble in your jean pocket for your Blackberry phone. Akechi looks a bit taken aback, but quickly recovers and accepts your offer, taking out his smartphone to send over his contact information. Once you both hear the ping signifying that the contact switch worked, you look up with a smile, but notice a strange look in his eyes that passes by after a moment. He almost looked… conflicted, somehow. But it’s quickly replaced with his normal smile once more. 

“Have a good night, Kimira-san.” And with that, he left.


End file.
